


Monica

by seutedeern



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Hamburg Era, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seutedeern/pseuds/seutedeern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John disappears into a transvestite bar, and Paul follows him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monica

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this fic at LJ but for archive purposes, I wanted it here as well.

The Monica Bar in Hamburg, Große Freiheit 27, was a special establishment for special people with particular needs. It was situated just across the Kaiserkeller, right next to the Star Club; the perfect location on such a popular side-street of the Reeperbahn. John Lennon also considered himself 'special', only his personal definition of this word changed from day to day. On this very night, though, his definition of 'special' matched perfectly with the Monica Bar's.  
  
He crushed out his cigarette with the heel of his boot, cast a quick, suspicious glance over his shoulder, checking that nobody he knew was in sight, and quickly walked down the short distance to the bar, fixing his leather jacket and slightly sweaty hair. After such a night, a night during which his mind had been filled with images of his unfortunately much too attractive best friend, his full lips and sultry eyes – not to forget the sounds Paul could make with his voice – John thought he, and the ideas Paul had given him, were even more than special. He would have felt almost guilty if all the blood in his brain hadn't already rushed southwards, leaving him hard and aching in his tight drainies. Fucking Paul and his fucking lack of curiosity.  
  
From the outside, the Monica Bar looked fairly innocuous. The only thing that could have hinted at something suspicious was the red paint on the walls, but everyone who lived around these quarters, the Beatles included, knew exactly what was going on in there.  
  
John took a deep, shaky breath before he opened the door and walked in, praying to God or whoever was out there that nobody had seen him. Immediately, he was embraced by the warmth of the bar, the noise of animated chatter, the buzz of his excitement and nervousness rushing through his entire body. He looked around at first, squinting his eyes in the poor light, but noticed immediately that some people were giving him curious looks. Not minding these men, trying hard to keep an aloof air about him, John walked over to the bar and ordered a beer in somewhat broken German, earning a few enchanted smiles from the men close to him.  
  
It didn't take long, just as John had expected, until someone was softly, hesitantly patting his shoulder, and he turned his head to the person with his eyebrows arched. “Yeah?”  
  
“You're from England?” The deep voice from the man standing next to him didn't quite fit his appearance. He was wearing make-up, heavy make-up that gave his eyes a dark, smoky effect. The brunette wig he was wearing almost reached his shoulders, and his black dress almost gave the impression that he had feminine curves that every other man would go mad for. Only his face didn't possess the same delicate feminine features as Paul's, although the stranger's face wasn't too bad either. John certainly wasn't going to complain. A mouth was a mouth after all, wasn't it?  
  
“Yeah,” he nodded and took a sip from the pint he had been just handed, “and you're from Germany?”  
  
The other man chuckled at this rather lame comeback, and John cringed at the sound of it. It was so fake and too high-pitched for his taste.  
  
“Obviously, yes,” said the man. “I've never seen you around here before.”  
  
“Because it's my first time here.” John lowered his gaze, hoping the man wouldn't pick up on what this could have implied. “Your English is quite good,” he said after a brief moment of silence. “How come?”  
  
The other shrugged with a crooked smile on his red lips. “I study it.”  
  
Nodding with a soft hum, John returned his attention back to his beer, shifting his weight from one foot to another, feeling more and more awkward by the second. He would need even more alcohol than he'd already had in order to go through this. While he emptied his drink, he thought of Paul again, of Paul and how he wanted him on his knees before him and with John's dick in his mouth, pink lush lips wrapped around him, and that thought alone was enough for John to gather the needed courage and turn his attention back to the other man.  
  
“Hey,” he smiled as he inched closer to the other, “What's your name, luv?”  
  
“My name is Maria,” the man smiled back, brushing his fake hair behind his ear. “And what's yours?”  
  
“John. Listen, Maria, would you mind if you and I went somewhere quieter?”  
  
John flashed him his most flirtatious smile that usually got all the girls, in Liverpool or Hamburg, to drop their knickers for him in an instant. And from the look on Maria's face, John knew his smile was having the same effect on him.  
  
“Certainly,” Maria replied, taking John's hand. “Let me show you.”  
  
*  
  
Meanwhile, back at the Kaiserkeller, Paul was fighting his way through the crowd of people on the dance floor, looking around to see if he could spot John anywhere. What he saw, though, was George and Pete talking to some girls in a corner, and so he went over to them.  
  
“Hey, have you seen John?” he asked with a deep frown, which was more a result of annoyance than concern that his friend had simply disappeared off to nowhere without having told him beforehand.  
  
George and Pete looked up at him, barely managing to take off their eyes off the girls' tits.  
  
“Dunno where he is, Macca,” George replied, accompanied by a grunt from Pete. “Maybe he's out for a smoke?”  
  
“Or he's found himself a lady,” Pete added, giving Paul a look that clearly told him to leave them alone so they could continue flirting with the girls.  
  
Rolling his eyes with a deep sigh, Paul decided it was best to go out himself and see if John was lying drunkenly somewhere in a dark corner of the street.  
  
Once he was outside, he fumbled for his pack of cigarettes. The burning sensation of the smoke in his lungs was more than welcome and he started to walk down the Große Freiheit, determined to find John.  
  
A couple of men dressed up as women had just emerged from that transvestite bar Paul and the others always used to make fun of, and he almost choked on the smoke when he heard what the two men were saying. They were talking about a gorgeous young Englishman inside the bar. Sometimes, Paul hated that his German was far better than most English people's around here.  
  
He eyed the two men warily for a second while an idea already started to form in his brain which he knew he was going to regret. But that certain niggling at the back of his mind wouldn’t quieten down, and so he dropped his cigarette to the ground, hissing, “Fuck it,” and went for the door.  
  
*  
  
The same moment Paul stepped in, John and the stranger had just disappeared behind the door to the toilets. Coughing slightly at the smell in the bar, Paul was momentarily frozen. He knew what sort of things to expect of the Reeperbahn, had seen enough strange things here at his young age already, and yet, a room almost completely filled with men in women’s clothes still made him feel slightly uncomfortable. He tried hard to ignore those looks he was being given, since he wasn’t really keen on giving some lonely heart false hope. He looked around for John, hoping he could spot him somewhere – and something in Paul’s heart wished John was sitting alone somewhere with a beer and a cigarette – but he was nowhere to be found. With slumped shoulders and a sigh of defeat, Paul decided it was probably best to look for John somewhere else; why would he be here, anyway?  
  
He had almost reached the door, when someone grabbed him by his biceps, stopping him in his tracks.  
  
“You search your friend?” the man asked with a thick German accent.  
  
Paul nodded in reply and mimed wearing John’s glasses. “Yeah. He wears glasses. You’ve seen him?”  
  
The man nodded and pointed with his thumb to the toilets, meanwhile giving Paul such a sly smile that the latter shuddered in mild disgust.  
  
Now that Paul knew where John was, he walked briskly over to the loos, snorting as he noticed that this bar also had a toilet for ladies.  
  
Pushing the door carefully, slowly open, Paul peeked in hesitantly. He wasn’t able to see anything suspicious, but there were sounds,  _sounds_  made by two men who were obviously doing  _things_. Things that had Paul’s heart skipping a beat, causing him to hold his breath in shock. That was clearly John’s voice, urging someone on to do whatever he liked.  
  
“Mmh… Yeah, suck it, come on,” John groaned, cupping the back of Maria’s head and bringing him closer to him while his hips jerked forward, knees growing weak in his excitement. Maria was smirking up at him and opened his mouth, lips painted red, and John could almost feel his wet tongue licking at him… if a much too familiar voice hadn’t called out his name.  
  
“Johnny?” Paul repeated, his voice much too raspy for his own taste but he didn’t care. Panic had taken hold of him. He didn’t want John to do this, although he wasn’t quite sure as to why. “John? A-are you here..?”  
  
John’s face had turned pale in a matter of seconds. With wide, frightened eyes, he stared in the direction Paul’s voice was coming from. It didn’t take long, though, before his initial fear turned into anger.  
  
“What the fuck are you even doing here! You bloody stalking me?!”  
  
Oh, and how angry he was. Crudely pushing the man in front of him to the side, he yanked up his trousers and tucked himself in quickly, before he kicked open the door of the stall and came face to face with Paul, who seemed scared to death. His mouth dropped open at the sight of John, all rumpled and flustered, but Paul averted his gaze quickly from him when he noticed the second figure that was emerging from the toilet stall.  
  
Neither said a word as Maria quickly collected the contents of his bags, forgetting a few articles in the process. He shot a brief look at John, the expression on his face showing all too clearly that he wasn't only confused but scared of John as well.  
  
After he had left, only the echo of the door slamming could be heard, mingling with the sound of John's heavy breathing. Slowly, John stepped closer to Paul with his hands balled up into fists, ready to jump into action when necessary.  
  
“I asked you what the fuck you're doing here, Paul,” he growled, his voice calm but dangerous.  
  
Paul flinched, as if he had just been snapped back into reality. “I... I was looking for you.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I don't remember...”  
  
“How did you find me?”  
  
John came to a halt right in front of Paul, glaring at him. He wouldn't let him get away with this, not with what the other boy had just witnessed.  
  
But somehow, Paul wouldn't shrink under John's cold stare. His face twisted in something that could have been stubbornness, but John knew what it meant; a little power play between them. Who would give in first?  
  
“Saw a couple of blokes in pretty dresses outside, if you want to know,” Paul sneered, taking a step closer to John -- which rather took him by surprise. “Didn't know you swung that way, Johnny,” Paul added with a cruel little smirk playing over his lips and, fuck, it shouldn't have turned John on this much, should it? What Paul deserved for his cheekiness was a good punch, and not John wanting to push him up against the next wall and fuck that smirk right from his pretty face.  
  
“What do you even know, Macca? Nothing.”  
  
“Just saw you coming out of that loo with another pretty lass. Says it all, doesn't it?” Paul didn't really know what had possessed him but it was a great feeling, an overwhelming feeling to have power over John for once. Maybe he had gone completely mad by now and didn't care too much for his life, but something inside him made him tilt his head a little, lean in just a tiny bit – his grin widening – and hiss at his friend. “Are you a queer, Johnny? Do you like to bugger blokes in dresses so you feel less guilty about it?”  
  
But John's reply, when it came, was quite unexpected by both of them. “Are we jealous, then,  _Paulie_? Would you rather I dolled you up and fucked your brains out?”  
  
Somehow, there seemed to be a slight shift again, and Paul was actually staring at John with wide eyes, taking a step back just when John had moved closer.  
  
“You want it,” John said suddenly, with a sly smile, “You want me to do it.”  
  
“Fuck off!” Paul shook his head with a disgusted look on his face. The redness in his cheeks, however, told a different story. Abruptly, John grabbed Paul's wrist and spun him around, pinning him to the entrance door of the men's room.  
  
“Don't fucking lie to me. I can read you like a book, Macca,” John muttered, and that was the moment when both became aware of how close their faces were, their shallow breaths mingling within the short distance.  
  
“Lock the door,” Paul said quietly.  
  
John couldn't believe his ears. Nevertheless, he did as he was told, eyes never leaving Paul's, and once there was a small clicking sound, Paul quickly pressed his lips against John's without warning.  
  
Taken aback completely by this, John stared at Paul as the latter kissed him, rather clumsily as a result of his nervousness. He brought his hands up to cup Paul's face and leaned into him, opening his mouth just a little, wanting to deepen the kiss which Paul more than eagerly accepted. There were questions swirling around in John's head as to why his friend was doing this but he tried his best to ignore them, didn't want to ruin this moment or the chance to get at last what he had been craving for weeks, maybe even months now.  
  
Paul tilted his head a bit, opening his mouth a little wider as he slipped his tongue into John's mouth, caressing and sucking eagerly at it with an almost needy whimper which caused John to press his body fully up against Paul's. From the way the other boy was moving against him, from the way their hands greedily reached for every body part that would cause a reaction, John's arousal returned soon enough. Breaking the kiss, he dragged his lips along Paul's jaw, nibbling at it briefly while he shoved a leg between Paul's, grinding down on Paul's thigh with a deep groan.  
  
“Paul,” he sighed, moving his lips to the other's neck, sucking on it lightly before he continued, “Will... Will you do something for me...?”  
  
“Anything...” Paul craned his neck for John as he held on to John's hips, moving in unison with the other.  
  
John nuzzled Paul's jaw briefly and went to kiss his cheek, nibbling lightly on his earlobe. “Suck me off,” he murmured, voice silky but urgent, “I want you to suck me off, luv.”  
  
For a moment, John thought Paul was going to punch him. The look on his face indicated as much. However, somehow, Paul did  _not_  hurt him, only ended up kissing him even more fervently.  
  
Groaning into the kiss, Paul grabbed John's hips and turned them around so that John was now pinned to the door, letting the younger boy suck greedily on his neck and leave purple marks there. He really didn't care if someone asked him about those love bites. Not when he had Paul McCartney wanting and panting against his neck, rubbing at the bulge in his trousers and making those bloody noises that had been driving John mad all evening.  
  
John rested his head against the door, eyes fluttering shut as he allowed himself to enjoy Paul's kisses on his neck and the gifted hand groping him through his trousers. He turned his head a little and let out a small moan as he thrust up against Paul's hand, holding the boy close to his body.  
  
As for Paul, he felt like he didn't really know what he was doing and could only listen to his instinct. Which, judging by the sounds he was coaxing from John, seemed to work quite well. Feeling weak in the knees from too much excitement and nervousness about what he was going to do, he sank down in front of John and fumbled with the latter's trousers, trying to open them and shimmy them down. A hand came down on his head and John ran his fingers through Paul's hair, making him look up at the other boy.  
  
“Wait a second. I've got an idea,” John grinned, cheeks flushed. Paul only arched an eyebrow.  
  
John bent forward and planted a quick kiss to Paul's lips to silence him before he walked quickly back to the stall where he and the stranger had been before. Paul could see how John crouched down and picked something up, although he couldn't recognise what it was.  
  
“What's that?” he asked when John came back, a smirk plastered on his face.  
  
“Decoration, luv. Now close your eyes.”  
  
With a sceptical expression, Paul reluctantly obeyed. He could feel how the other tilted his head upwards, felt John's lips grazing his for a brief moment before they were replaced by something entirely else. Lipstick.  
  
“Johnny..? What the..?”  
  
“Shhh,” John soothed him, kissing his cheek lightly, “Don't ask, all right. Just... Just let me do this...”  
  
Licking his thin lips, John painted Paul's mouth with the lipstick Maria had forgotten to pick up. It really was a sight to behold – Paul's full lips painted a sluttish red, his perfect eyebrows knitted in slight worry, cheeks glowing pink in embarrassment.  
  
When he was done, Paul glared at John, mumbling, “I'll get you back for that, Lennon.”  
  
The other only grinned in reply. “Shut it, and suck my dick already.”  
  
Paul bit down nervously on his bottom lip when John leaned back against the door and opened his trousers, the bulge prominent in his briefs. Paul inched closer on his knees and looked up at John while he moved in to nuzzle his nose against the outline of John's dick, John's scent taking over his senses. He felt a small desperate moan escaping his lips as he brushed his mouth along John's clothed shaft, feeling the other shiver against him.  
  
“Come on, quit the teasing already, will you?” John ground out in a husky voice.  
  
With a nod, Paul slowly pulled down the other's briefs, swallowing when he was faced with John's erection.  
  
“My god...” he murmured to himself, subconsciously flicking his tongue over his red lips before he pressed a hesitant kiss to the tip of John's cock, noticing how the latter visibly shuddered when he gave it a small lick.  
  
With a shivery sigh, John reached out to stroke Paul's head, urging him to go on with low murmurs, encouraging words. They seemed to have an effect on Paul as he opened his mouth a little further and begin to trail his pink tongue along John's shaft, glancing up at him just to check if the other boy liked it. The gasp he heard was pleasing enough for him and so he placed his hands upon John's hips, keeping him pinned firmly to the door as he finally took John'scock into his mouth.  
  
It was a strange feeling at first, sucking another boy's dick, but this was John and Paul had to admit that he found himself liking it. With his lips tightly wrapped around John, he moved down slowly on him, sucking hard when he moved his head back, eliciting more groans from his friend. John watched him attentively, not wanting to miss a single second of seeing this beautiful boy on his knees before him. The red trail Paul's lips left, though, was too much for John. He grabbed the back of Paul's head and shoved him down onto his cock again, wanting to feel him everywhere. Paul gagged a little when the tip of John's dick pressed against his throat and he looked up at him with panic in his eyes.  
  
“Sorry,” John rasped and released his tight hold on Paul's hair, panting heavily.  
  
Paul seemed to have forgiven him because he started to bob his head slowly, trying to figure out how best to take John in without gagging. He loved the sounds John made; he wanted to drive him mad. Paul let the cock slip from his mouth and took John into his hand, pumping him while he pressed his lips against the crown and rubbed them against it, knowing that this was exactly what John wanted. He flicked the tip of his tongue over the sensitive slit which was by now leaking with pre-cum and smeared all over Paul's red lips. But he didn't mind in the slightest.  
  
By now, John was no longer able to form coherent sentences, apart from cursing and praising Paul's talented mouth. He was close, too close already, and so he tugged at Paul's hair again, wanting to feel his lips around him once more. And Paul complied.  
  
This time, he managed to take almost all of John's cock into his mouth without choking and he moved his head swiftly, not even minding when John began to fuck himself slowly into Paul's mouth. John was hot and thick against his tongue, and Christ, if this wasn't the greatest feeling in the world. Without warning, though, John suddenly tugged hard at Paul's hair as he shoved himself completely into his mouth and came with a couple of quick, hard pulses, taking Paul so by surprise that he swallowed all of John's come without giving it a second thought.  
  
When it was all over, John released Paul from his tight grip, allowing him to slip John from his mouth. Paul gave John's spent cock a few tiny licks and kisses before he let go of him completely and sat back. His knees were hurting, his whole body felt wobbly. How would they get back home to their beds in this state?  
  
Neither of them said a word, but Paul appreciated it when John offered him his hand and pulled him up. Paul's face flushed lightly when John cupped his cheek and wiped away the lipstick as well as he could with his thumb, smiling at him slightly. The kiss that followed might have been unusually tender, catching him completely off guard, but he certainly wasn't going to complain.  
  
John glanced down Paul's body, and started to smile as he noticed the state the other boy was actually in.  
  
“Want me to take care of that?” he asked, brushing the back of his hand along the bulge in Paul's trousers. The latter bit down on his bottom lip, whimpering softly in agreement.  
  
“All right. Let's go home. The others won't be back yet.”  
  
And with a mischievous smile crossing his features, John took Paul's hand and led him out of the bar, making sure that nobody else dared to touch what was his.


End file.
